


Sidewinder

by MirrorMystic



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, During Canon, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: In another life, Selena Fluorspar, Mage General of Grado, led the assault on Jehanna Hall.A look at “what if”, and how one little twist could have saved them both.





	Sidewinder

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Finale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371071) by [jehanna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanna/pseuds/jehanna). 



> There I was, at work, on my lunch break, casually reading fanfic, when I stumbled across a gem that supercharged me with FE8 inspiration. So thanks, jehanna, for inspiring this fic, and for contributing to a *super* underappreciated tag. And everybody, go check out "Finale" if you haven't already!
> 
> Also: It's only obliquely mentioned at the very end, but feel free to consider this part of the same AU-verse as 'Connect the Dots'. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, also: This is a "what if" scenario based on an event two-thirds of the way into the game! So if it wasn't clear before, please beware game spoilers!

~*~  
  
For a brief moment, she considers just shooting her with lightning.  
  
It would be so simple. So easy. The bolt would travel right into the lightning rod clutched so graciously in her hands, and fry her from the inside out. Straightforward. Simple.  
  
But Ismaire is the Queen of White Dunes. Elegant, graceful and coiled like a snake, a haunted beauty in those tired eyes. Ismaire was a queen, she thought. She deserved better than such a messy, ignoble death.  
  
So Selena snapped her fingers, and Ismaire’s sword fell from her fingers with a pained yelp, glowing red-hot with conjured flame.  
  
A quartet of queen’s men bellowed war cries and charged, their blades held aloft, but Selena stopped them all in their tracks with two fingers pointed right at Ismaire’s heart, her hand crackling with electricity.  
  
“Stop!” Selena demanded. “Blades of Jehanna, you are defeated. Throw down your weapons, and, on my honor as a General of Grado, you will not come to harm.”  
  
Silence. The mercenary closest to her tightened his grip on his sword, shifting his weight on his boots.  
  
“Do it.”  
  
Queen Ismaire’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. Her men swallowed, exchanging glances.  
  
“My Queen…?” one of them wondered.  
  
Ismaire wrapped her singed hands in the fabric of her gown. She reached down and plucked her still-smouldering sword off of the stone floor. She raised it up to the light, studying her reflection in the steel. Then she clicked it into its scabbard, and dropped the sheathed sword on the floor.  
  
“Do it!” Ismaire snapped. Four sheathed blades hit the tile in an instant.  
  
Selena pursed her lips and nodded, the lightning fading from her fingers. One of her officers rode up beside her, his mount whinnying in the stifling corridor. She beckoned him close with a pair of hooked fingers.  
  
“General?”  
  
“Jehanna Hall is ours. Order our men to disengage immediately. All fighting is to cease at once. My authority.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
  
He rode off, shouting Selena’s orders down the line. Slowly, the sounds of fighting petered out throughout the hall, leaving only the whistling of the desert winds and a tense, eerie silence.  
  
Selena took a deep breath and sighed. She strode up to the Queen of Jehanna, her boots clicking on the tile floor.  
  
“...Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Selena murmured, lowering her eyes.  
  
She leaned in close-- and she swore she heard the Queen’s breath catch in her chest, could have sworn she felt a tension between them from being so close-- but then Selena plucked the hidden dagger out from Ismaire’s sleeve and sent it skittering across the floor, and the glimmer in Ismaire’s eyes became an ice cold glare.  
  
“What do you want with Jehanna?” Ismaire growled. Selena felt a strange shiver up her spine.  
  
“...I am sorry for all this,” Selena whispered, mournful. “Truly. But I’m only here for the stone.”  
  
“So it is not enough that you come for Jehanna’s people,” Ismaire spat. “Instead, you come for Jehanna’s very soul.”  
  
The defiance in Ismaire’s eyes would be beautiful if it didn’t send shame roiling through Selena’s stomach. She swallowed hard, staring down at the floor.  
  
“...Where is the stone?”  
  
“I’ll never tell you,” Ismaire snarled. “I would rather die!”  
  
“ _Don’t_ ,” Selena hissed. “Don’t say that. Or you _will_ .”  
  
Ismaire flinched, and looked away. She worked her jaw, as if thinking of how to respond, but said nothing. Selena hesitated. Seeing her like this, so haunted, so defeated…  
  
The shame was unbearable. Selena grit her teeth.  
  
“This isn’t--” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “This isn’t what I wanted.”  
  
“But it isn’t about what you want, is it?” Ismaire wondered. “You’re just a pawn. An instrument of the Emperor’s will.”  
  
Selena didn’t know what to say. She just stood there, hands shaking, not sure if she wanted to reach out to Ismaire or punch her in the face.  
  
A scream from behind shocked Selena out of her melancholy. She whirled around, just in time for blood to spatter across her tunic and one of the queen's disarmed mercenaries to hit the floor.  
  
“Stand down!” Selena bellowed. The squad of fighters roaming behind her blink at her dumbly, pulling their axes free from their latest victims. Selena clenched her fists, seething.  
  
“Shoulder arms!” Selena barked, and the men snap to attention, their weapons braced against their shoulders.  
  
A man emerged from the pack of thugs, war axe hefted lazily across his shoulders like a yoke. He pushed past his squad, unfazed by the fury glinting in Selena’s eyes. He stared her down, lazily hooking a thumb into his belt.  
  
“...What are you so mad about?” Caellach wondered.  
  
“The order was to _stand down_ ,” Selena hissed. “These men were already beaten. They did not have to die. And you, Caellach, were supposed to be outside, guarding the perimeter.”  
  
“Well, you see, lass,” Caellach began. Selena twitched. “Valter was nice enough to show up and take over guard duty so me and my boys could go for a walk. And I, as co-commander of the assault on Jehanna, decided to see what was taking so damn long.”  
  
Caellach gestured with a shrug of his axe on his shoulder.  
  
“And what do I find? The stone, still intact. The queen, still alive. And you two, gossiping like a pair of hens,” Caellach scowled. “This is what happens when you send a woman to do a man’s work. Did you even find out where they were keeping the damned rock?”  
  
Selena fixed him with an icy glare. “...I already asked.”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Caellach asked. “Let me try.”  
  
Caellach strode up to Ismaire. She glowered at him as he approached, looking regal and dignified even in defiance. Caellach studied her, reaching up and idly scratching his chin.  
  
Then he cracked Ismaire across the face and hurled her to the floor.  
  
Selena found herself instinctively reaching out-- but Caellach got to her first, kicking her sword away across the flagstones and curling a meaty fist around Ismaire’s arm.  
  
“Start walking. Now,” Caellach growled, and Ismaire did as she was told, leading them further into the keep without another word.  
  
Selena blew out a breath, before falling in step behind them. Caellach glanced over his shoulder, flashing her a sickening grin.  
  
“See what happens when you ask nicely?” Caellach smiled.  
  
Selena pressed her lips into a line, and followed them into the dark.  
  
~*~  
  
The reliquary hidden beneath Jehanna’s capital was much like her queen: tucked safely away in the heart of Jehanna, draped in emerald silks and glittering gold. Filled with a haunted beauty. Hollow, since the King’s passing. And now, broken and defiled.  
  
The reliquary needed no torches. The sacred stone of Jehanna sat on a stone altar, filling the room with its constant and dazzling glow.  
  
When Caellach shatters it between his fingers, it’s as if he’d reached into Ismaire’s chest and crushed her very heart. She crumbled to her knees in despair, staring at the broken shards dusting the stone floor.  
  
The sacred stone. The brightest light in all Jehanna. From now on, no matter how bright and garish the sun blazed, Jehanna would always be just a little bit dimmer.  
  
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Caellach said lightly, dusting off his hands. He curled a hand around his war axe, resting against the altar, and hefted his axe back onto his shoulder. His gaze turned to Ismaire, draped on the reliquary steps, a broken woman. His lips curled into a wicked smile.  
  
“Well, now. Ain’t that a sight.” Caellach licked his lips, He squeezed the hilt of his war axe until his knuckles were white. “...I’ve been waiting for this…”  
  
“Caellach!” Selena snapped.  
  
He stopped, glancing lazily over his shoulder. Selena stared him down, ice in her gaze. On the steps before them, Ismaire stared at the floor, lost in herself, scarcely aware of the duo above.  
  
“What now?” Caellach asked, annoyed.  
  
“The stone is destroyed,” Selena said, adamant. “We have what we came for. Leave her alone.”  
  
“Aww, are you scared I’m gonna get blood all over your nice clothes?” Caellach crowed, mocking, but the mirth left his face in an instant. “...It’s a little late for _that_ , lady. Or did you think you could get this far into the Emperor’s war and still convince yourself your hands are clean?”  
  
Selena grit her teeth.  
  
“...We have what we came for,” Selena repeated. “The Emperor said nothing about killing the queen! We have no orders to do so!”  
  
“Oh, screw your orders, lady!” Caellach scoffed. “I’ll listen to you when you start paying my wages. This… this is just payback, pure and simple.”  
  
Caellach hefted his war axe in both hands, growling.  
  
“Here’s to you, _Your Majesty_ ,” Caellach snarled. “This is for all the years I spent scratching a living out of the dirt, while all you needed was a good pair of tits to get a crown on your head…!”  
  
“Leave her alone!” Selena shrieked, her hands trembling. Caellach rolled his eyes and lowered his axe.  
  
“Oh, for crying out-- look at her! She’s dead already! Her husband’s dead. Her brat ran away and probably got himself killed trying to make it as a sellsword. There’s barely anything left to kill! What the fuck does it matter to you?!”  
  
Selena swallowed hard, and didn’t back down. Beside her, Ismaire slowly looked up, as if shaking herself from a trance, her eyes studying the altars above her.  
  
“I _said_ ,” Selena growled, “leave her alone.”  
  
Caellach glowered at her, like a light had gone out in his heart.  
  
“...Get the fuck out of my way.”  
  
“If you won’t listen to orders, listen to this,” Selena spat. She pulled a purse from her pack, fat with gold. She shook it in Caellach’s face. “Here. Am I speaking your language yet? Take your money and get out. I’ll report back to the capital and tell Emperor Vigarde the job is done. But you’re not laying a single filthy finger on this woman.”  
  
Caellach blinked. He grinned, shouldering his axe.  
  
“...Now you’re speaking sense. Give it here.”  
  
Selena clenched her fist, flames crackling across her knuckles. She pitched her coinpurse through the air.  
  
The canvas pouch exploded in Caellach’s fingers and doused him in molten gold.  
  
Caellach screamed out a savage curse, hurling his axe in a blind, manic swing. Selena darted aside, feeling the chop of Caellach’s blade swishing past her face.  
  
“Your Majesty!” Selena cried.  
  
“You bitch! I’ll kill you! I swear, I’ll--”  
  
Caellach seized. He gagged, a frost-blue blade emerging from his throat.  
  
“You talk too much,” Ismaire said coldly. She swiped the blade aside.  
  
Blood exploded out of Caellach’s throat in a ghastly spray that immediately froze in a curl of ice. Caellach staggered down the steps and fell face-first onto the stone, the bloody glacier at his throat shattering as he hit the floor.  
  
Ismaire watched Caellach’s frozen corpse smash onto the steps, her dark eyes unreadable. She stood, the Sacred Twins of Jehanna in her hands-- Audhulma, the Ice Blade, shining blue in her grasp; Excalibur, the book of the Tempest, clutched to her chest.  
  
Their eyes met for a long moment, a host of feeling passing between them without a word.  
  
There was a muffled impact, high above, that shook Jehanna Hall down to its foundations. They glanced up, sand sifting down from the ceiling, before turning to each other once more.  
  
“...Are you my enemy, Dame Selena?” Ismaire asked, raising Audhulma to the light.  
  
Selena held up her hands, shaking her head. “...No, Your Majesty. On my honor.”  
  
Ismaire took Selena’s hand with a squeeze, and Selena swore her heart stopped. A moment later, she glanced down and saw the tome of Excalibur pressed in her hands. Selena’s eyes went wide.  
  
“You can’t--”  
  
“I am the Queen of Jehanna,” Ismaire cut her off. “Do not tell me what I can or cannot do.”  
  
Selena bit her lip. “...Yes, Your Majesty.”  
  
Ismaire glanced at her, her expression softening.  
  
“Dame Selena?”  
  
“Yes, Your Majesty?”  
  
“...Thank you.”  
  
Selena bowed her head. Even in the breeze emanating from the pages of the tome in her hands, even in Audhulma’s aura of frigid cold, Selena felt the warmth flick across her cheeks.  
  
Another explosion. Another tremor beneath their feet. Ismaire and Selena exchanged glances, and ran.  
  
Ismaire led Selena up through the twisting labyrinth of Jehanna Hall’s sublevels, a maze intended to snare any would-be treasure hunters seeking Jehanna’s most priceless relics of all. They burst out of the cellars to discover Jehanna Hall ablaze-- the silken banners blazing with light, magicked meteors falling like rain.  
  
The flames painted Jehanna in a hellish red glow. But Audhulma lit the way, its blade shining ice-blue and flashing in Ismaire’s hands.  
  
Two Gradoan axe-fighters burst into their path. Ismaire sidestepped their falling axes and felled them in two perfect killing strokes, their frozen bodies shattering on the flagstones.  
  
There was fighting across the hall, but Selena couldn’t make out the combatants through all the smoke. It hardly mattered now-- if Jehanna Hall burned down around them, it didn’t matter with whom they shared their grave.  
  
Selena splayed her palm, calling the wind to dispel the clouds of black, stinging smoke. But Excalibur’s hardcover pulsed beneath her fingers, as if alive. The magic within was a wild, animal thing, untamed, lashing out at Selena’s unfamiliar presence. Its monstrous power gnawed at her senses, fighting against her fingers when she tried to draw upon it.  
  
Two wyvern knights descended to block their path. Ismaire yelped in alarm and darted away from their blows, the lancers pulling back when she made to strike them in kind. She growled, darting under their thrusts, slapping their spearheads aside, hunting for an opening--  
  
Excalibur’s pages fluttered open in an otherworldly wind, as if of their own will, fighting Selena’s grip. She felt herself being pulled forward, a vessel for some ancient power.  
  
Selena obliged. She raised her hand, fingers splayed.  
  
A cascade of emerald wind hurled the two wyvern riders off their mounts and crushed them into a bloody pulp against the walls.  
  
Ismaire glanced up, somehow untouched by the gale, and flashed Selena a smile in gratitude. Selena’s heart flipped at the sight, but was joined by an awful churning in her gut as she realized--  
  
_Wyvern riders…_  
  
“Your Majesty!” Selena screamed.  
  
Ismaire stopped just short of bursting out into the brilliant light of Jehanna’s desert, puzzled, wondering why Selena wasn’t right behind.  
  
Then a shadow filled the doorway, blocking out the light.  
  
“You’re not my Eirika,” Valter grinned lecherously. “But _you’ll do_ .”  
  
The Audhulma rang like a bell as Valter’s lance smashed it out of Ismaire’s grip. It sang as it flew through the air, a haunting melody as Valter raised his spear, and ran her through.  
  
“ _No!_ ” Selena shrieked. “Valter! You-- You--!”  
  
“What? ‘Traitor’?” Valter sneered. “There’s only of those here today. Give my regards to your beloved Emperor…!”  
  
Valter cried, his wyvern diving forward.  
  
Selena felt something stir within her, alongside her outrage, her anger and her grief. Some deep and unfathomable presence-- and the tempest at her fingertips.  
  
Selena screamed out her fury, her voice a mere whisper beside the hurricane that erupted from her grasp.  
  
The power was tremendous. Overwhelming. Exhilarating. But as soon as it passed through her fingers and exploded out into the world, it left her feeling more hollow and exhausted than she had ever felt in her life.  
  
Selena blinked, her vision spinning. She was on the floor. She didn’t remember falling. She remembered a hurricane of brilliant emerald light, and then--  
  
Blood. So much blood. Her gloves are shredded, torn. A thousand cuts spiraling down her wrists. Her fingers are red. So red…  
  
“Mother!”  
  
The raw anguish in the boy’s voice makes Selena’s heart catch in her chest. She hears the wet slap of the sword hitting the ground, blinking as it spatters her with blood.  
  
Blood. So much blood. Why…?  
  
“General…?”  
  
There’s a woman. A woman in white. She’ll get red all over her nice dress. She must be an angel. Or a ghost.  
  
“General, stay with me…!”  
  
“No…”  
  
Selena gasps, blood dribbling down cracked lips. Above her, she sees, blue eyes and golden hair.  
  
A goddess, surely. Not a ghost.  
  
“Save her,” Selena begs. “Please. Save her…”  
  
Her eyes darken. The world fades. Shapes. Shadows. Black. White...  
  
~*~  
  
Gray.  
  
Selena blinked, the shadows resolving in her eyes. She woke to a hooded figure, his eyes glinting like stars. But he was not the specter of Death-- he was a familiar face, smiling as Selena blinked herself awake.  
  
“Researcher Knoll?” she wondered, her voice hoarse.  
  
“Dame Selena,” Knoll bowed his head. “Welcome back.”  
  
Selena sat up in bed. She reached up and combed her fingers through her hair-- hissing in pain as her hair scratched against the myriad stinging cuts running up her arms. She blinked, staring at the tiny whorls of emerald wind flickering across her fingers.  
  
“Magic drain,” Selena breathed out. Knoll nodded.  
  
“You’re an exceptional elementalist, Dame Selena,” Knoll began, “but it seems the legendary Excalibur is yet beyond your grasp. You could not control it-- only unleash it.”  
  
Valter’s awful, messy demise flashed across Selena’s eyes. She flexed her fingers, pressing her lips into a line.  
  
“...I think it worked out well enough, all things considered,” Selena murmured.  
  
“Agreed,” came a small voice.  
  
Selena looked up with a gasp.  
  
“...Sister Natasha,” she murmured, bowing her head in gratitude. “You saved my life. Thank you.”  
  
“Of course, General,” Natasha nodded.  
  
Selena blinked. “...the Queen. Is-- Is she--”  
  
“Yes,” came a gruff voice. “And she’s not the only one.”  
  
Duessel appeared, a giant in his oxblood armor. Selena’s heart caught in her throat.  
  
“...Lord Duessel.”  
  
“Dame Selena,” Duessel nodded. “On your feet, soldier. We have much to discuss.”  
  
~*~  
  
It was almost too much to take.  
  
Emperor Vigarde, dead. Glen, dead. The Prince, gone rogue. Now the last remnants of the Imperial Army followed in the footsteps of a demon worshipper. Cultists, now. No soldiers. Four of the five Sacred Stones, shattered.  
  
Two of them, practically by her own hand.  
  
Despite everything, the news Selena was most eager to hear was whether Queen Ismaire would recover from her grievous lance wound. When Sister Natasha told her Ismaire had awoken, Selena found herself rushing to her side--  
  
\--but someone else had gotten there first.  
  
Of course he did. He was family, after all. And never was it more obvious than when he was sitting at her bedside, her hand clasped in his. Jehanna was home to many redheads, it was true. But seeing them, side by side? There could be no doubt.  
  
“I would have come back,” Joshua said quietly, squeezing his mother’s hand. “I always meant to. I didn’t want to-- I didn’t want it to happen like this.”  
  
“I know,” Ismaire murmured.  
  
Selena didn’t mean to overhear. She lingered in the doorway, not quite out of earshot. She stood, silhouetted by a banner draped over the wall. Green and gold, the colors of Rausten. They matched her outfit perfectly; ironic, since she’d never felt less like she belonged.  
  
But Ismaire caught a glimpse of her, over her son’s shoulder. And maybe it was just a trick of the light, but Selena swore Ismaire smiled at the sight of her.  
  
“Dame Selena,” Ismaire cooed. “You made it. I’m so glad…”  
  
Joshua turned to face her, and Selena found herself flinching away from his gaze. Despite his normally languid, easygoing demeanor, there was a sharpness in his eyes that stopped Selena in her tracks.  
  
His mother’s eyes, she supposed.  
  
“...I didn’t mean to intrude,” Selena said. She cleared her throat, awkward. “I just… wanted to return this to you.”  
  
She lifted Excalibur in her hands, its pages thrumming with power, even when closed.  
  
Ismaire pursed her lips, thoughtful. She took Joshua’s hand and squeezed.  
  
“How fortunate, then. I was just entrusting my son with the Sacred Twins of Jehanna. It’s only fitting that he decide who bears our relics.”  
  
Joshua frowned, clutching something at his side-- the sheathed Audhulma, Selena realized.  
  
“It should be yours, Mother,” Joshua said, his face uncharacteristically somber.  
  
“Do I look like I’m in any condition to wield a sword right now?” Ismaire said blithely. “No, Joshua. It has to be you.”  
  
Joshua exhaled through his nose. “...And Excalibur, then?”  
  
“I think Excalibur has found its own wielder,” Ismaire said.  
  
Selena blinked. Her eyes darted between the duo in disbelief.  
  
“...You can’t be serious,” Selena said.  
  
“I’m no mage,” Joshua shrugged. “It’s worthless in my hands.”  
  
“But you can’t--”  
  
“I recall making it clear how I felt about being told what I can or cannot do,” Ismaire chided.  
  
Selena cleared her throat. “With respect, Your Majesty, this tome is a relic of Jehanna. It belongs in the hands of the royal family. Furthermore, I readily admit that I am not yet skilled enough to wield such power safely. I cannot stop you from offering me such a priceless treasure, Your Majesty, but I cannot accept it, either.”  
  
Ismaire’s lips twitched into a stubborn frown. Joshua tilted his head, before suddenly digging into his tunic pockets, finally producing a single shining gold coin.  
  
“Tell you what,” Joshua said, with a whimsical grin that suited him far better than the grim countenance he’d worn just before. “We’ll bet on it. Heads or tails?”  
  
Selena stared at him. “...What?”  
  
“Call it, quick,” Joshua urged. He flicked his coin into the air, and it spun, glimmering…  
  
Ismaire caught it neatly in her hand.  
  
“The Sacred Twins of Jehanna are meant to be wielded by the royal family,” Ismaire said. “But they are also meant to be wielded in the defense of Jehanna, and her people. You’ve done that and more.”  
  
She beckoned Selena forward with a nod. Ismaire pressed the coin into Selena’s outstretched hand, meeting her eyes the whole time. Their fingers were both scarred-- Ismaire’s, singed from Selena disarming her by conjuring fire into her sword, Selena’s from the legendary Excalibur being too much to control. But they both gasped, just a little, as their fingers met. Some current passed between them-- like lightning in the desert.  
  
“You saved my life, Dame Selena,” Ismaire intoned. “It’s yours.”  
  
Selena knew Ismaire was most likely referring to the book of Excalibur, and not her life. But that didn’t stop her heart from flipping in her chest.  
  
Their eyes lingered on one another long enough for Joshua to consider reminding them that he was still sitting right there. But a commotion in the hall drew their attention-- a runner in Rausten green, shouting at the top of his lungs.  
  
“To arms! To arms! We’re under attack!”  
  
Joshua flashed Ismaire a stricken look, but Ismaire took his shoulder and squeezed.  
  
“Go,” Ismaire said, glancing at Selena beside her. “I’ll be alright.”  
  
Joshua met Selena’s eyes. She swallowed.  
  
“...I’ll keep her safe,” Selena murmured, warmth flicking across her cheeks.  
  
Joshua nodded. He raced into the hall, coat flying, Audhulma shining like a star in his hands. Ismaire watched him go, pride glimmering in her eyes.  
  
But Selena’s eyes were on her, and her alone.  
  
~*~  
  
The War of the Stones ended much as it had in other tellings of this story.  
  
The coalition forces of a united Magvel assaulted the Black Temple in the heart of Darkling Woods. Selena fought alongside the remnants of Grado-- Duessel, Cormag, Knoll, Natasha. Ismaire, despite her injury, saw the war through to its conclusion.  
  
The Demon King rose, was sealed, and fell once more.  
  
Life went on, twist or no twist.  
  
Selena aided in the reconstruction of Grado. Ismaire took pride in taking the young princesses of Magvel under her wing. Eirika, Tana, and L’arachel all flourished under her matronly tutelage.  
  
It would take years for Ismaire to recover enough from her injuries to wield a sword once more. But when Exalted L’arachel began gathering another coalition, this time to assault the Lagdou Ruins and purify those wretched halls for good, Queen Ismaire answered her call. And she did not go alone.  
  
There’s a story there, too. One worth telling.  
  
But if history remembers anything, let it be this: that, for years after the War of the Stones, Selena kept a golden coin in her pocket, right beside a fluorspar gifted her by Emperor Vigarde himself.  
  
On the day Ismaire ceded her throne to her son, Joshua, Selena came to see her at Jehanna Hall. They laughed. They cried. They danced together.  
  
And that night, beneath a full moon, Selena returned the golden coin Ismaire gave her all those years ago. In its place, Ismaire gave her a little shard of desert glass-- created in the moment of intense heat when lightning strikes the sand.  
  
They had their first kiss beneath that full moon.  
  
And it was, indeed, just like lightning.  
  
~*~


End file.
